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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24270625">Transportation</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ylevihs/pseuds/Ylevihs'>Ylevihs</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>How Not to Fall [53]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Retribution Spoilers, canon typical angst, headcanon heavy, inaccurate portrayals of mental/psychic damage, minor regene oc</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:56:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,133</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24270625</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ylevihs/pseuds/Ylevihs</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard's figured out how to move from A to B to C. Now he just has to start moving.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Herald/Sidestep (Fallen Hero)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>How Not to Fall [53]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1327892</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Transportation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The easy part was over. </p>
<p>Which was never a good sign. The knowledge that things were only going to get exponentially harder from this point on crashed through the windows of Richard’s mind, an abandoned baseball that had been hit too hard and too fast. </p>
<p>Whoever she was, Regina clearly didn’t fully trust the regene she had brought with her. Or didn’t have faith in her abilities at least. In any case, she had no clue about who Richard or Mad Dog were. Didn’t know why the Rangers would be involved beyond Lady Argent stopping her from chasing Regina down. Which was good.</p>
<p>Focus on the good. </p>
<p>Focus on what he didn’t have to worry about or feel. Feel.</p>
<p>She looked bad. It took a few minutes as the blood was rinsed from her face to see the damage that had been done. Shallow lacerations on her right cheek from Argent’s claws. A broken tooth. Broken eye socket turning ugly yellow. In a few hours it would blacken and swell completely shut. A few broken fingers. A cracked rib, already knitting itself together. Urged forward by the changes to her DNA the Farm had made. And the private doctors kept on staff by the Rangers were having a hell of an argument in the back over whether or not they could or should do anything for her. The basic consensus was that they should as least administer ice to keep the swelling down. One wanted to give her an anti-inflammatory to keep the pain down. The other, not being cruel but rather doubting the biology, whispered that they didn’t know if it would even be able to help her. </p>
<p>One of the doctor’s brought her an orange prisoner’s top to cover up the tears in her shirt and keep her covered. </p>
<p>They were basic kindnesses. Little humanities. She was shocked when they came in with an ice pack and a paper cup of water to wash down the single ibuprofen pill. Richard could feel the surprise and confusion, followed hotly by suspicion and mistrust. They clearly knew what she was by now and yet. Yet they were treating her a little like. </p>
<p>Almost like a person. The small and fumbling niceties were more than she’d ever been exposed to before.</p>
<p>Richard could empathize with how poorly the realization was syncing up with the rest of her life experiences. Made it easy to sink himself in amongst her thoughts and not be completely overwhelmed. There wasn’t panic. Not when he came in and not when he sat down across the table from her.</p>
<p>It was much worse than panic. It was the resignation slowly flooding her mind, drip by drip, that this would be the end. That these people, this man sitting across from her, who only barely knew what she was were going to send her back to the Farm with Regina. The thing she had been fighting for because it was the only thing she knew. And that they didn’t know when she arrived what would happen to her. Nothing in her expected them to care, but there was. Small and quiet. At the very edges of conscious reason, a thin and reedy voice hoping they would ask. So at least she could say that she was going to die if they sent her back. </p>
<p>So that someone, somewhere would know that she had been alive. That she’d existed.  </p>
<p>It was a risk to. To. Something impatient and furious grabbed Richard by the diaphragm and punched down. Risks be damned. </p>
<p>Another baseball aimed at glass, only now Richard was the one holding the bat.  </p>
<p>“Does she call you by a certain name?” quietly asked, hedging against the existence of microphones in the space. Chen had offered a fairly decent excuse to get Richard inside the room alone with her, but Richard hadn’t been paying close enough attention to know what it was. It was a holding cell like the one Regina was in. Not built for long term storage but enough to keep the villain of the week from breaking themselves free. </p>
<p>The regene blinked at him and remained silent. Her thoughts weren’t sluggish—that wasn’t the right word for it. But they weren’t quick; her mind felt like it could only handle one stream of thought at a time. But that may have been exhaustion. </p>
<p>Richard bit the bullet first. “She never was good at names,” a surge of mistrust but her mind continued plodding along, examining that statement as well as the first. “But neither am I. My name is Richard. Do you know who I am?” that at least got a bare response. The regene shook her head. A mild lie. She recognized the face and name but hadn’t paid attention to why Regina was interested in him.  Her first assumption was that he was a fellow scientist. A colleague perhaps. She dismissed that. No one who worked with Regina felt it necessary to talk with regenes like they were people. “Alright,” Richard nodded and tried to unclench his hands. A picture of calm, cool and collected. “I suppose it’s not important that you do. We’re going to release her—and you—back into the custody of the proper authorities,” no name dropping. Words and tone as formal as he could keep them with the consonants furiously tearing up the back of his throat. </p>
<p>He wanted to throw up. </p>
<p>Chen could swear up and down that there weren’t recording devices in this room either and Richard could believe that Chen might not know about them. But not the other option. </p>
<p>The regene tensed slightly and then looked straight down at the table. No argument or fuss. She wanted to tell him her name—to say anything at all. Not hoping for mercy or reprieve. Not knowing what an ally could even do for her if she even had the wherewithal to want one. </p>
<p> She just didn’t want to be erased and couldn’t fathom a reality where it wasn’t the case. </p>
<p>It stung, too close and too hot. But it was better than nothing, better than emptiness. It was almost the exact same urge that Richard had felt and fostered in his own chest for years before the chance to escape had come. A basic and primal desire to stay alive but now prettier and with more emotional frills. Not just to stay alive but for someone, somewhere to know that you had died. To know that a life had been lost.</p>
<p>He could work with that. </p>
<p>“Do you agree to cooperate with us?” a shallow nod, mind going more and more blank as her impending doom was sealed and she still couldn’t make her mouth move. “Then we’ll contact the right people and get the two of you on your way back home,” no flinch or cringe. Nothing that couldn’t be blamed on the swelling at least. “Until then you should keep the ice on that break,” blasting out anything that he could think would feel. Soothing? No, but non-threatening at least. Not even close to what he wanted to say. The reassurance he wanted to give.</p>
<p>He wasn’t going to let her die. He’d left her behind once and there wasn’t anything that could stand to be responsible for leaving her to die at Farm. <br/>Couldn’t force the words to leave his throat but he could plant a hopeful seed in the cracked earth. Like trying to plant an oak in the Sahara, urging roots to grow in soil that had never seen rain. You don’t know me, but I’m not going to let you die. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>They were quick. Bastards. </p>
<p>In less than half an hour a helicopter was landing on the roof of Rangers HQ, set to take Regina and her regene to the airport, where their private ‘jet’ was still waiting on them. </p>
<p>Richard’s fingers itched. He’d been able to control Mitzi from nearly anywhere in the city, but that had been because of months and months adding up to years of almost daily activity in her mind. He’d have to keep his own limp body close enough by to keep control of Regina. The plane wouldn’t be too difficult, even if Daniel had protested the idea of Richard cramming himself into the. Well. It would have to work. The Farm’s airplane hangar wasn’t too far away from the Research and Development compound. Or at least it hadn’t been when he’d been there. It was unlikely they’d remodeled so extremely in the few years since his second escape. But you never knew. </p>
<p>Except. Normally you’d never know. </p>
<p>He’d have to spend a great deal of time inside Regina’s damaged mind in the coming hours. He could most likely safely slip out during the flight itself, a little less than two hours’ worth of breathing room before having to wiggle back in. As far as he knew, Regina hadn’t been aware that he could force himself into other people’s heads. Which meant the security at the Farm shouldn’t have any clue that they would need to screen her beyond her normal credentials. Hopefully, the part of her brain where she kept her passwords was up and running still. Hopefully, the parts of her brain where she kept everything else would be ruined beyond recognition.  </p>
<p>No way to be certain until he was inside her. </p>
<p>Beside him in the small locker room Daniel was busy adjusting his goggles; his thoughts swirled in a familiar, worrying pattern. Thinking about. About. Richard couldn’t blame him. It was taking a lot of effort to keep his own attention from losing its grip on the moment and dipping into.</p>
<p>They were.</p>
<p>He’d said yes. They were engaged. <i>Engaged to be married</i>. The sort of thing romantic soldiers did in the stories before going off to war; proposing to their girl so that they could have something to look forward to if they made it out alive. A little extra bump to get them through the darker times. ‘I’ve got my fiancé waiting for me back home. We’re gonna get married.’ It had been <br/>Daniel’s last line of defense. Trying to get Richard’s promise that this wasn’t a suicide mission to stick.</p>
<p>You have to come back, gentle wingbeats tapped out a Morse code against the back of Richard’s neck. We’re engaged now, so you have to come back alive. You’re committed. No reckless or noble deeds. No dangerous and symbolic acts. Do what you need to. Destroy what you have to. But beyond all of that—you’ve got to come back alive. </p>
<p>Too many of Daniel’s thoughts were dredging up and sticking on what he’d said so many months ago. That he’d die before he ever willingly went back to the Farm. Desperately hoping that things had changed enough. That he, Daniel, had done enough to change Richard’s mind about that. That this last piece would be important enough. </p>
<p>It prickled on Richard’s skin like a sunburn eating through the layers. Forming little cancerous blobs. Making his stomach turn that Daniel still thought he could shoulder any of the responsibility for his. That any of Richard’s…. could be because of something he’d failed to do. That it wasn’t one hundred percent Richard’s own fault.</p>
<p>But he could appreciate why Daniel had pulled out his hidden ace now. Or tried to if Richard hadn’t stolen it from him. Because it would be the easiest way yet to. To. Take a single misstep. Say a word noticeably wrong. Get the layout of the building wrong. Put in one too many incorrect passwords. Elicit suspicion. Elicit violence. If he died in Regina’s body, would his mind survive long enough to make it back to his own body? In all technicality he’d be able to survive the brain’s death, wouldn’t he? Because Mitzi was just a body with a beating heart—the brain only kept alive because the heart was still pumping. Can’t find out now, ha-ha. Couldn’t take the risk. Now there was a dog and a fiancé he had to stay alive for. </p>
<p>“Alright,” Daniel lifted the goggles to rest them on his forehead, floating high enough to be level with Richard’s gaze. He was looking down at the ground, as though reading a script written on the linoleum. “I’ll fly up alongside the back of the plane and hitch a ride on the roof. And when it starts to descend, I’ll keep myself there so that the radar doesn’t pick me up, and get off before it lands,” clearly uneasy with the next bit. “And then I’ll wait for you to come back to your body. Make sure nothing happens to it and no one finds it,” and Richard could tell that it was only partly lip service. Daniel would wait for him to come back. But only for as long as he could help it. If something went wrong. Or if Richard needed help. Or if. “You know Ricardo is gonna kick your ass when we get back,”</p>
<p>Richard couldn’t stop the wince. “I know,” he more than knew. When they’d gone back in to get the details nailed down, Ricardo. Well. It was understandable that he’d been pissed. But worse than that had been the small accusation, cork screwing itself deep into Richard’s heart. “I do trust him,” he said quietly, willing it to be the truth. He did. But he wasn’t sure he could handle Ricardo seeing the inside of that place. Seeing what had been done there to him. There had only been pictures so far. A brief segment of video, and even those small pieces had been enough to nearly send Ricardo over the edge. </p>
<p>Even without being able to see inside his head, Richard could read the body language. Every second Ricardo spent in the room with Regina made his muscles tense tighter. Teeth clench a little firmer. <br/>Richard might not have wanted her dead, but Ricardo was barely keeping himself in check. </p>
<p>No. Daniel could. He. It sent tremors of terror through Richard’s legs, threatening to make his knees give out. Daniel was coming to the Farm with him. And if he’d already made the colossally stupid and knee jerk reaction to say yes to getting married, he may as well be allowed to see firsthand Richard’s childhood home. Ha. Come on over and meet the family, we’ve got more upsettingly weird uncles than you can shake a stick at. </p>
<p>Daniel’s words sliced cleanly through the fog. “Trust him? I meant that you didn’t immediately tell him we were engaged,” trying to joke. Trying to set light to any of the growing darkness. Richard snorted, feeling something small and private in his chest relax a fraction. </p>
<p>“We can tell him together when we get back,”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Regina’s eyes were unfocused as she was led up to the elevator doors. Still babbling, head rolling slightly from side to side. She was listing off a recipe for what sounded like French onion dip before transitioning into a speech in progress about the effects of the hero drug on cellular mitosis. A few bullet points in, she went back to specifying that it should be ranch powder added to the dip, not the sauce. It was easy to hear the ding from the elevator in the locker rooms next door. Richard felt Daniel’s hands on his shoulders, ready to support and catch his body once his mind left it. They were warm. Firm.</p>
<p>He tried to hold onto that, even if he didn’t deserve the comfort they offered.</p>
<p>It was dark for a long moment. Systems checking themselves before Richard could force the eyes to open back up. And. Ah, beans that was going to suck. Regina’s eyes were working. For a basic definition of the term. Light was entering and hitting the retinas, but apparently Richard had succeeded in ripping up something that flipped the vision upright. The world in front of him was upside down and vaguely nauseating. </p>
<p>Great. Fantastic. </p>
<p>Her legs worked at least. Supporting his weight was easy. She was just about as tall as Mitzi, so the height adjustment wasn’t as severe as he’d been fearing. The pain blooming in her face was dulled to a hot, aching throb now. The same was true for her shoulder. It hurt to breathe, but nowhere near as much as the broken ribs had. At least here he could drop her mouth open to pant and not have to worry about seeming too foolish. It would be an issue at the Farm if he wanted to get in without being carted off to the hospital wing immediately. </p>
<p>As more of the sensations flooded into recognition, Richard felt the hand on his forearm adjust slightly, providing a little more stability. Chen was holding on to Regina’s arm. Richard opened her mouth. The long arm of the law. </p>
<p>“The laws of thermodynamics state that energy cannot be created or destroyed,” Regina’s mouth mumbled. Oh. Oh, that wasn’t good. Destruction. Half of the country destroyed, what remained of her logic pointed out. “Colloquially be known as the Big One, ha-ha wasn’t that a big one?” Richard reached behind him into the depths of her brain, letting her eyes close again to focus until he could find the cording that led impulses from the language center to her mouth. They were frayed and sparking, but if he held on tight, he might just be able to. Whatever had been lurking before in the dark was gone now. Her mind was brightly lit, showing the strange and twisting organic boxes and blobs he’d felt earlier. Jesus. Earlier that day. Several of them were throwing off jumbled information. Richard pulled tight on the cabling. “Alright,” and even he could hear the difference in tone in her voice. </p>
<p>The grip on his forearm shifted ever so slightly, picking up on the change. “Alright.” Not questioning. “Ricardo and I will hold the fort here. Just in case,” whispered so faintly that it was likely Chen was hardly moving his mouth. It was difficult to say. If he opened her eyes again, Richard was certain that he’d lose control of her mouth.  </p>
<p>At least he’d have some time to practice the quick change on the plane.  </p>
<p>He was able to convince her head to nod though. “They might retaliate,” and if they did, the best case scenario was making sure people could be evacuated. Another piece of dread that could settle coolly at the back of Richard’s spine, waiting its turn to heat up in his gullet. The elevator dinged and Richard vaguely recognized the sound of the hallway. It led to the rooftop door. Daniel and he had entered this way once or twice and Richard chanced opening Regina’s. </p>
<p>Ah, shit. That was really gonna suck.</p>
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